


Traces

by pagerunner



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: F/M, post-episode 55
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-04
Updated: 2016-06-04
Packaged: 2018-07-12 07:22:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7091377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pagerunner/pseuds/pagerunner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the battle with Umbrasyl, Vex comes by to check on Percy. Minor spoilers through ep. 55.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Traces

In the hours after the black dragon’s fall, when all of Vox Machina had retreated to the mansion to rest and heal, Percy found his way to his bedroom and bathchamber, where he stared at the mercifully clear waters and found himself lost in thought.

He was still trembling from exertion, still sore from his wounds. Pike’s healing had done much to mend him, but there was still a phantom burning sensation flickering across his skin, and he itched to get his weapons back into his hands, like the threat hadn’t yet gone. When his right hand tensed instinctively as if to grasp the sword again, he closed his eyes. Smoke still curled there in the darkness, along with all the memories of the heat of battle and the _surety_ of his rage. He hadn’t felt it so potently in a long time.

Grog may have dealt the killing blow—perhaps it truly had been his destiny after all—but during that battle, Percy had given his all. It had made an enormous difference. It had also…reminded him of a few things. And it had left him with precious little energy to spare.

Perhaps it was fortunate that one of his companions soon decided to follow and see how he was faring.

Percy was already in the bath by the time he heard footsteps, and those were so soft they might have been mistaken for another soft lap of the water. Only his trust that the magic of this place would prevent any unwanted intruders kept Percy from startling upright when he realized what the sound truly was.

Well, it was partly trust and partly utter weariness—and the fact that he could only imagine one person stealthing after him under such circumstances.

With his head still leaning back on the edge of the wide, rounded pool and his eyes still closed, Percy murmured, “Why aren’t you already abed, Vex?”

“Hello to you, too.“ There was only the slightest hesitation. “I came to make sure you hadn’t drowned.”

“That’s very kind.”

He must have sounded more sardonic than he’d intended, because Vex added in more self-conscious tones, “I meant to check in on you sooner. I’m afraid I was preoccupied with Trinket.” She paused. “Sorry.”

“No, that’s…exactly as it should be.”

He at last opened his eyes, blinking to focus through the lingering gray. Vex was sitting cross-legged on the floor beside the inset pool, still dressed, and for that matter still battle-marked, with spots of gore visible on her clothes and skin. Her hair was a mess, her face was smudged, and her expression was rueful. It also held genuine concern for him. Percy ventured as much as he could of a smile.

“You were best equipped to handle the bear, and you are his mother, after all. Pike tended to me very well. And I won’t be perishing by water if even the acid couldn’t do me in. I’m not sure the enchantments or the servants here would permit it, anyhow.”

“You’re probably right. But…you’re sure you’re healed?”

“There’s not much left that a good night’s sleep won’t mend.” He stretched out one arm before him, studying his skin. There were a few odd little pockmarks here and there, new since this morning, but given the alternative…

He gave a sideways glance to the damaged clothing he’d removed, some of it still smoldering quietly in the corner.

“I think my wardrobe’s the only real casualty,” he said, trying to keep his voice light. “Pity. I liked that coat.”

Vex gave a little snort, but she studied the remains, too. He’d separated the mess into piles, with his glasses and salvageable gear placed into a somewhat organized stack and the inevitable discards heaped up in another. Vex’s head cocked, and an odd little look crossed her face. “Funny how the mask never seems to get damaged,” she mused.

His response sounded distant even to his own ears. “No,” he said levelly. “It doesn’t.”

Things fell silent then, except for the sound of the water. It kept softly rushing over him, propelled by some magical fashion. It saved his tired arms the trouble of scrubbing, at least, and it cycled the dirt and grime cleanly away. It also hazed the water slightly with bubbles. Percy hadn’t stopped to consider the obscuring properties of that—or the possible failings of same—until Vex commented, “You know, time was, you’d have been skittish as anything about me seeing you in the bath.”

Her fingers dipped into the water, far from him but still making curious little swirls. Percy watched her without moving toward or away. “There might even have been screaming,” she went on, goading him slightly.

“Not _screaming_. Please, I have some dignity.”

“Yelping, at least. Frantic splashing. Lecturing me and running away, not necessarily in that order.”

“I am far too tired to rouse myself to that sort of indignation, Vex’ahlia. Although if you’d like a treatise on propriety in the morning…”

“I’ll pass.” Her mouth suddenly twitched into a smile. “You still have that mark of mine on your face, you know.”

Percy blinked, one hand lifting to it. “I…suppose I do.”

Vex reached over, nudging his hand out of the way and swiping two wet fingers gently against his skin. He startled, but didn't back away. It took a couple passes, and the last touch lingered for a moment at his chin before she withdrew. “There,” she told him. “That’s got it. Well…mostly.”

Percy watched her black-smudged fingers draw back and dip into the water again, rather closer to his shoulder this time. Little smoky curls stretched out around them.

Percy took a couple deep breaths before his hands rose up to rub his face, not just to do something about the mark but to push his errant thoughts away if he could. His fingers, though, were trembling. Finally, despite the queasiness it prompted, he slid down and deliberately submerged himself. He could _feel_ Vex warily watching, but he didn’t think about it, didn’t let himself think about anything, until the slight burn of needed air made him sit up again. He pushed his hands further back as part of the motion, raking his wet hair out of his face.

By the time he could focus again—somewhat ineffectually, minus the spectacles—the water looked once again clean.

“There,” he said quietly. “All gone.”

Vex studied him, then her own hand. Finally, with something like either embarrassment or distaste, she took in the rest of herself, too. But when she raised her eyes to Percy again, there was something curiously thoughtful there. “Percy…”

“What is it?”

It took her a minute to say it, but finally she did: “We killed an _ancient dragon,_ didn’t we?”

The thought hadn’t gone far from him, but at that it roared back with sudden force. Umbrasyl’s form loomed in his memory, fierce, defiant…and fallen, cleaved by Grog’s mighty final swing. “One of four,” he said, reflexively qualifying it. “And nothing like the strongest, god help us. But…”

He trailed off, thinking again of the sword in his hands, the fury and the _satisfaction._ A shadow of it crept back into his voice when he finished, “Yes. Yes, I believe we did.”

A sideways smile crossed Vex’s face, mirroring his own. Then she made a low little groan and lay down on the floor. “This was a terrible idea,” she said, even as she did it. One arm fell over her eyes. “No energy left. I’m never getting up again.”

“One of _four,_ ” he repeated. “We’ll all rather have to.”

“Ugh. Shove it up your arse, de Rolo.”

He chuckled, then took the opportunity to gingerly push himself out of the tub. There was a robe nearby, left by one of the mansion’s ghostly servants. He stood, turned, reached for it, and was in the process of putting it on when he thought to glance behind him. The sound of the water moving had indeed announced his actions well enough, and Vex had moved her arm enough to peek.

“ _Really_ , Vex,” he said.

“Sorry.” She didn’t sound sorry at all. “It’s a very nice arse, just so you know.”

He ducked his head, hiding his expression, and made his cramped fingers lace up the robe—for whatever that effort was worth now—before turning around again. Vex had sat back up, wrapping her arms around bent knees.

It wasn’t until then that he saw her locked hands were trembling, too.

He almost said something, but stopped. Vex would blow off any attempts at sincerity, he suspected, and after he’d rebuffed her offer of help, she assuredly wouldn’t accept much from him. _Two stubborn people,_ he thought with a twist of his lips. _What a pair we make._

But after all…she’d still come.

He silently offered a hand.

“Thank you,” Vex said quietly, taking it and letting him help lever her upright. She wobbled a little on the landing. Percy put his other hand out to her shoulder, steadying her, and she smiled, embarrassed. “Long day.”

“Yes.”

She met his eyes, then shook herself. “I should go, then. Clean myself up, see to Trinket. Sleep.”

“Of course. And…thank you, Vex. For looking in on me.”

Her eyebrow quirked as her gaze traveled over him again. “My pleasure.”

At that, Percy coughed, making Vex laugh. Unaccountably, Percy found himself squeezing her hand just a little tighter before letting go.

They both noticed the dirty smears on his hands when he did.

“Oh,” Vex said, laughing ruefully. “Whoops.”

Percy rubbed his fingertips against his palms, smudging his skin to smoky gray again. He smiled crookedly. “Not to worry. I’m used to it.”

Vex guided his hands back down again, considered him silently, then lifted up on her toes and very softly kissed him on the cheek. Before he could respond, she stepped away. Percy turned to watch her go, holding his breath while the door swung shut. It barely made a sound.

In the end, he went to sleep with ash still on his hands and the memory of a dragon’s roar in his ears, but that last little touch lingered, too, and for once it kept the bad dreams at bay.


End file.
